


Scout's Little Lady

by lolzwaitwhat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, Found Family, I have no self control, Other, kid wrapping the entire team around their finger, scout teaching a kid how to play baseball, wheelchairs do not equal incapable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolzwaitwhat/pseuds/lolzwaitwhat
Summary: After Scout learns Miss Pauling bats for the same team, he's heartbroken. But after teaching a wheelchair bound child how to hit a baseball, he unknowingly opens himself to a different kind of love.And while it can be scary, he has his family and eight fellow mercenaries to help him not mess it up... hopefully.
Relationships: Pyro/Sniper (Team Fortress 2), spy/scouts ma
Comments: 15
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So a while back, I saw that one of the comic writers for the TF2 comics says that Miss Paulings is a lesbian and I wondered about Scout’s reaction and it just kinda turned into this because I have no self control and love found family fics.

When Jeremy aka Scout found out that the love of his life, Miss Pauling, is actually into ladies, he indulged in a few minutes of a fantasy before realizing that ‘wait, that means she isn’t interested in men.’ 

And after several very stupid and humiliating attempts to win her over despite her sexual orientation, the two eventually had a talk and agreed to be friends, with Scout even offering to be her ‘wingman’. Pauling gave a nervous laugh and a “Yeah, maybe.” in reply.

After that, he needed some time, so he went home for a bit to cry and talk to his Ma, who encouraged him to go out and meet new people and while he knows she’s right, as she pretty much always is, he’s not really up for it.

So he goes to this new batting center up the road from that dry cleaners he was banned from when he was seven and decides to just hit things with a bat for a while, maybe after that grab some Boink from the store, get a bucket of fried chicken, and watch a game on the TV with his Ma.

The ultimate Friday night right there.

He kept hitting and hitting and hitting until his hour was up, then he went to go back to the counter to pay for another one when he heard a loud, anguished cry, “Why can’t I hit it?!” 

He paused, and walked to the cage where the noise came from and saw a small, dark skinned girl in a wheelchair holding a bat and looking upset as she swung for the ball the machine pitched out and missed again, the ball soaring over her bat.

“I don’t get it, what am I doing wrong?!”

Jeremy suddenly recalled he had issues with hitting a baseball when he first started out too, blubbered and cried after a frustrating afternoon of misses. The next day his brothers managed to convince him to leave his room and helped him get his first hit with a bat. 

Now, he didn’t hit a baseball per say, but that jerk Jackie Franko from up the street deserved it and it wasn’t like there was anything in his head that could be damaged, so no harm no foul.

He did get to hit a ball later that day with the bat, but Jackie Franko would always be the first chucklehead to fall by his bat.

He glanced around before noticing a phone book sitting on a bench by the phone, he picked it up and walked into the cage, being careful to not get hit by the ball or the girl’s wild swing before she seemed to notice him in there.

“Hey! I’m not done yet!” she cried, upset at the idea of someone trying to take her spot, puffing herself up so she could look bigger and tougher. A part of him was pleased to see this, it was good to know the kid still had plenty of fight in her.

“Yer too low.” He said, holding up the phonebook, “back up away from where the machine is spittin’ ‘um out a bit, I’ll help ya get a bit higher so you can whack tha snot outta ‘um.” 

The girl stared at him, surprised, but she then slowly did what he asked and he softly asked if she could lift herself up a bit from the chair so he could put the book down on it or if she needed help. She sniffled and put her hands on the arms of it and pushed herself up high enough for him to put the book down, him noticing that she was missing her left leg from the knee down, but said nothing. He’d been killed in plenty of horrible ways and had felt his limbs get blown off before, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen that sort of thing before.

That and he worked with plenty of people who were missing pieces of themselves, Engie was missing an arm, Demo was missing an eye and Soldier was missing a brain, but they were all nice enough guys who could kick some serious ass when it came right down to it, he knew missing a piece didn’t mean anyone was any less capable and knew that anyone who said otherwise was full of it.

“Nice upper body strength.” He said with a nod as he carefully placed the phonebook under where she would sit down. “This should get ya high enough ta hit it, if not, I’ll yell at the guy behind the counter ta lower the machine for ya.” 

She nodded slowly and carefully lowered herself back down onto her chair.

“Okay, now that yer high enough, go wack the crap outta that ball like it owes you money!” He said with a smile.

The girl blinked at him, clearly surprised at his statement before she wheeled herself back to the spot she had been before and held the bat firmly in her grasp.

“Loosen yer grip, kid, or it’ll hurt when ya hit th’ ball. Trust me.” He said.

She quickly loosened it a bit before the next ball flew out and she swung the bat.

She didn’t hit the ball very hard, or very fast, but brotha, the look on her face when she managed to hit it made him feel all warm inside. And it was enough to make him not say a word about how, in a real game, that would have been considered a foul ball.

“I did it!” She squealed, overjoyed that she’d hit the ball “I hit it! I hit the ball!” 

“Yeah ya did!” He said, “Do it again!”

“Emily, what do you think you’re doing?!” a harsh woman’s voice rang out. Making them both jump a bit and for the girl to miss the next ball. He scowled and turned to see a thin woman with a pinched face wearing a suit jacket and skirt that was an unpleasant shade of pinkish red that reminded him of the color one turned when being choked for long enough.

“Hittin’ the ball.” He said in her place before motioning for her to focus on the next incoming ball. Noting she got another foul ball as the woman said, “Sir, she’s in a wheelchair, she doesn’t belong in there and you shouldn’t be encouraging her.”

“She’s fine.” He said before turning back to the girl, “But maybe try ta bend yer elbow out a bit like this.” He said, holding his arms out the same way his brothers taught him so many years ago. “It’ll help put more strength into yer swing.”

The child did as he asked and she hit the ball again with more force, a little to the right of where third base would be, “Nice!” he complimented, “Keep doing it, just like that!”

“You two both are to come out of that cage this instant!” the woman said.

“Yeah, sure pally,” he said dismissively, waving her off as he watched the little girl hit another one, “WOO! Yer on fire, kid!” He cheered, the child lighting up at the praise and seeming to get into a rhythm as she readied herself for another hit.

“This is your last...” the girl hit the ball again, this time, when the girl hit the ball, the ball it it with the perfect thwak one gets when you hit the ball just right and he beamed as he watched the ball fly high up in the air between where second and first base would be. “HOMERUN!” He shouted, ignoring the woman.

“Really?” The little girl asked, her eyes sparkling.

“Yeah! That’s Major League stuff right there! Keep it up!” He told her.

She readied herself for another ball... only for the machine to suddenly stop with a loud groan.

“Hey, what gives?!” He shouted, annoyed. Only for the pinched face woman from before coming back, holding a power plug for a moment before dropping it and walking to the door to the cage and opening it, “Emily, get out of there this instant, we are leaving.”

The child hesitated, looking uneasy.

“What the hell is yer problem?” He demanded, putting himself between the woman and the child, “What, you the fun police or somethin’?”

“This has nothing to do with you, sir.” the woman said, her tone icy.

“The hell it doesn’t!” He snapped back, the woman’s face turned red and her face twisted into an even more sour expression, “I recommend you exit that cage immediately or I will call the police.”

“Fer what?” He snapped, “Helpin’ this kid with her swing or telling you where you can shove it?” he then flipped her off, “Either way, a night in the clink is worth it.” 

She scowled and stomped off, most likely to the telephone. Well the joke was on her, the phone book was under the kid’s butt, so she would have to ask the operator to connect her to the police and since it was a Friday, he knew his sister-in-law, Betty, was working right now and that she took her time connecting calls unless it was an actual emergency. 

“I hate her.” The girl mumbled.

“That makes two of us.” He agreed, “So what’s the deal with her?”

“She works for child services, she’s supposed to help me find a family, but every time we meet with one, she just goes on and on about the accident and what happened to my leg.” She said, gripping the bat as she stared down at her legs, “I already feel like a freak since I lost it, but she always makes it worse by bringing it up all the time and how I need ‘specialized care’ and how it’s really expensive and junk. Yeah, because that’s going to make people want to pick me...”

Jeremy wondered if Engie ever felt like that about his arm, he knew Demo longed to have two eyes again, and had heard him drunkenly lament losing it and how he felt like a freak because he only had one eye. But Engie didn’t talk about it and he always felt like it would be a bad idea to pry.

“That sucks.” He said, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded, her eyes watering, “I heard some of the other kids saying that adults have brought them here when a meeting with a potential family goes bad and how they feel a lot better after they come here, so I asked her to bring me here to try it out....” she started wiping at her face, “But she said no because ‘I’m in no condition to play sports with how my leg is’...”

“that’s bull crap, you did fine!” He assured her, “And anyways, I have a brother, Brad, who lost a leg in the war and he plays basketball with his buddies in the warm months. All of ‘um play in wheelchairs and they can kick every standin’ guys’ ass at it.”

“What about the cold months?” She sniffled.

“Then they play poker and drink beer.” He told her before asking, “So if she said no...?”

“She left me outside for a minute to use the bathroom and I wheeled myself over here after taking a few bills from her purse...” she explained, looking a bit sheepish.

He chuckled, “Nice.” He said, gently ruffling her hair before holding out his hand, “The name’s Jeremy, but everyone calls me Scout.”

“Emily.” She said, taking his hand in a firm grip and giving it a good shake.

He smiled, pleased that she didn’t do that dainty handshake crap he’d seen some women do.

“So Emily, what do ya do fer fun when that broad’s not bringin’ ya down?” He asked.

....

The police showed up about an hour later to find the Child services woman fuming outside the batting cage while Jeremy and Emily were having an animated conversation.

“So Engie says, ‘How much bread did ya teleport?’ and the guy says, ‘I’ve done nothin’ but teleport bread for three days!’ Three days! Seriously, I didn’t know if I should be shocked that he’d do that for so long or feel bad that he had nothin’ better ta do!” He told her, making her giggle.

The woman stood up when she saw the officers, relieved, “Officers, thank goodness, can you please escort that man away from her?” Pointing at Jeremy as she spoke in a loud voice, most likely thinking she could scare Jeremy into either fleeing or compliance and he arched his eyebrow at her as Emily wheeled herself around to be able to see what was going on without hurting her neck.

“Hey Hatcher, Hey Muttonchops, how are ya?” He called.

“Hi Jeremy!” One replied, looking pleased to see him, “Didn’t know you were back in town!”

“Yeah,” the other one said, looking less than pleased to see him. “I thought your brother would’ve warned us.”

“The two old guys I worked for died, so the companies are scramblin’ ta figure out what to do now and let me have the time off. Just got back yesterday. This is Emily by the way.”

“Hi Emily!” the cheerful cop said, “It’s nice to meet you!” Emily smiled and waved at the cop.

“Excuse me,” The woman said, exasperated, “I did not call you two over for a chat!”

“So yer the one who called?” the grumpy officer asked.

“Yes, yes i am.” The woman said, “I am with child services and I am responsible for taking her to her doctors appointments and her possible family meetings.”

“Didn’t you report that he was holding her hostage?” The cheerful one asked, clearly confused.

“He won’t leave the batting cages or help her out of there and he won’t let me through to get her!” she said, “How else can she leave?!”

“First of all,” Jeremy called, “She can move herself without either of our help. Second of all you pulled the plug on Em’s machine before her time was up. She paid for time in here and until she gets ta finish, she’s not leaving.”

“She is in a wheelchair!” the woman shouted.

“So?” Jeremy countered.

“S-so?!” the woman sputtered, “S-she’s not in any shape to do any kind of physical activity...”

“That’s a load of crap.” He said plainly, “You can ask anyone watchin’ Em here before this broad pulled the plug, she was doin’ great.”

“She shouldn’t of been there in the first place!”

“Then why is she here?” Jeremy asked, making the woman stiffen, “If you don’t think she should be here, then why is she here? Yer the one who takes her places, so why is she here if you didn’t bring her?”

“Because you took her!” she accused.

“What?” he squawked, “No, i didn’t!”

“Excuse me, Gentlemen.” A familiar voice called, the group turned to a man wearing a fine suit and smoking a cigarette. But was, oddly enough, maskless. Jeremy felt his jaw drop.

“Spy?” He blurted, “the hell you doing out here? And why is your face naked?”

“I’m visiting your mother.” he said simply, ignoring the question regarding his lack of mask.

“Oh no, you are staying the HELL away from my Ma!” he shouted, moving towards the wall of the metal mesh cage, but staying within three feet of Emily.

Spy waved him off before looking to the cops, “Gentlemen, I witnessed the young lady in the batting cages being left alone by that woman for over fifteen minutes in the middle of a somewhat questionable neighborhood before she left to come here. She paid for an hour of time and after about ten minutes of trying, the gentleman with her went in and began to teach her. Just when they were beginning to really enjoy themselves, that woman began yelling at them and demanding them to leave. When they did not, she unplugged the machine and threatened them to get out or she’d call the cops.” He summed up, “I’ve been watching the situation since then and those two have been enjoying themselves despite this woman’s efforts.”

“Yer vouching for him?” the grumpy cop said, pointing to Jeremy.

“He’s done nothing wrong.” He assured them.

The grumpy cop looked at him, then Jeremy, then at Spy again before turning to the woman, “So you left that kid alone outside for all that time? What were you doing?”

“She said she had to use the bathroom.” Emily piped up, “So I guess she had to poo.” Jeremy snorted at the word poo. 

The grumpy cop sighed, then turned to the woman, “Look lady, I get Jeremy can be annoying, but it seems like this whole thing wouldn’t have happened if you just held it in until ya got her back ta th’ orphanage.”

“Hold it-” The woman squawked.

The grumpy cop looked to Jeremy, “The kid says she’ll go back to the orphanage if she gets to finish her time?”

Jeremy looked at the girl, his eyebrows raised. Emily nodded.

“Only if she doesn’t take her back and we can stop for ice cream on the way back.”

“Fine.” The grumpy cop said, “We’re done here. Let’s go.” His cheerful partner smiled and waved, “Bye Jeremy, bye Emily!” they then turned around and began walking out.

“Wait!” The woman called, chasing them, “You can’t just agree to that!”

“Hey Spy, ya mind pluggin’ us back in?” He asked from the cage.

“... Only if I can join you for ice cream after.” Spy replied.

“Deal!” He cried.

....

Jeremy and Spy waved good bye to Emily and the orphanage director, Emily’s face covered in ice cream as she joyfully waved at them before the director motioned for her to head inside.

“That girl seems to be very attached to you.” Spy commented as he turned to leave.

“She’s a good kid.” He replied, rooted to the spot.

“Scout?” Spy called, noticing Jeremy standing at the door, his expression a bit sad as he murmured something about hoping that little girl found a good family who saw her as she was and not as just a kid in a wheelchair before turning around to head to his mother’s place.

Spy looked back at the orphanage and spotted another sad looking face starring at them from the window, recalling how his lover had sounded worried about her youngest son, “I think what he really needs is someone to adore and to rely on him...” she sighed, “Maybe I should’ve gotten him that puppy he always asked for...” 

Spy looked the little girl in the eye and gave her a slight nod before catching up to Scout, a plan forming.

He was going to get Jeremy and Emily exactly what they needed, but before he could do that, he was going to ask for back up


	2. Chapter 2

Emily laid in bed, unable to sleep.

Normally family visit days were awful, but today it was actually fun. She had taken a chance (along with a few bills) and did what some of the older kids talked about and she’d had a great time, even when Miss Has-To-Go-To-The-Bathroom-For-Forever had tried to ruin it. 

Mr. Jeremy had been nice, he had helped her in ways she actually needed and wanted instead of just assuming she needed help with everything like most people did. He didn’t stare at her leg the whole time. He didn’t assume she was weak or helpless. He listened to her and asked her about what she liked, instead of just talking at her and seeming disinterested if she didn’t like what they did. 

And then after she did really well hitting the ball, she and his friend Mr. Spy went out for ice cream. Mr. Spy and Mr. Jeremy got fudge pops and then Mr. Jeremy got her a HUGE vanilla cone with extra sprinkles for doing really well at the batting cages. Mr. Jeremy ate his ice cream super fast without getting a headache and offered to move her wheelchair so she could enjoy her ice cream while they headed back like they told the police officers that they would.

Normally she didn’t like when people moved her wheelchair for her, she liked being able to move herself to where she wanted to go, but since her ice cream was so big and needed two hands and they were just taking her back to the orphanage, she was okay with it.

Then they both chatted with her all the way back and then Mr. Jeremy gave her a piggy back ride up the stairs to the front porch while Mr. Spy carried her empty chair up. Normally people either lifted her chair, which she didn’t like, or pushed her up the stairs, which hurt her butt.

She almost forgot how nice piggy back rides were, she felt so tall and Mr. Jeremy was so fast! It was fun!

But then they left. 

And now she was alone again.

She sighed and turned onto her side and stared at the empty bed glowing in the moonlight to her right. 

Grace was her roommate until she was adopted two weeks ago and no one had come in since then to take her place. 

She missed Grace. She knew lots of silly jokes and was really nice. She wondered if Grace was happy at her new home, with her new family.

She felt her eyes grow hot with tears. She was so lonely...

“Hello Emily.” A familiar voice called. Emily sat up with a start and starred into the dark until she finally saw one of the people she met earlier.

“Mr. Spy?” She asked, wiping at her face, “What are you doing here?”

“I am checking in on you. You seemed upset when we left.” He said, before the light went to the empty bed she had been starring at, “This was Grace’s bed, I assume?” 

“H-how did you-?”

“I am a spy.” Mr. Spy said, “I know lots of things. Like that how you took money from Miss Darron’s handbag in the car, pulled out your wheelchair from the seat beside you on your own and rolled off to go to the batting cages. After she told you no.”

Emily’s eyes widened, he knew about all that? But... But Mr. Jeremy was the only one she told about taking the money! So how did he know!?

“Like I said.” He answered, as if hearing her thoughts, “I am a spy.”

“Can you read my mind?” she asked, a little scared now.

“No.” He said.

“Are you going to tell on me?” she asked, still scared.

“No, that woman was very unpleasant and has been making it very hard for you to get adopted. I can understand why you did what you did, but you know stealing is wrong.”

“I know that, I was just mad. She’s not nice and she always says I’m broken. And the one time I ask if I can do something and she says no and tells me I can’t do anything because of my leg... and...” her throat felt thick with emotion and she sniffled as she looked down at the stump where her left leg used to be.

Mr. Spy cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. And you don’t have to worry about her finding out. I replaced the money you stole and I will not tell anyone what you did if you promise not to steal again.”

“I won’t.” She promised, “Thank you for not telling on me.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He said. 

They were both quiet for a moment before he asked, out of the blue, “What did you think of Sco-er Jeremy?”

“He’s nice!” She said cheerfully, “and he doesn’t treat me like other grown ups do, he helps me with what I want help with and he listens to me. He asks me what I like and gave me ice cream!” She smiled broadly, “I’ve always wanted to eat a big ice cream cone like that! I’ve always had it in bowls before, but the cone was really fun and tasty! And there were even rainbow sprinkles!”

She heard a short, dry laugh before she saw the man come into the moonlight and sit on the edge of the bed, “I am glad to hear that you had fun. Jeremy has had a bad week and playing with you really helped cheer him up.”

“I helped him?”

“Indeed.” He told her, “Emily, would you like to play with Jeremy again?”

“I can?” she asked, eagerly then remembered how mad Miss Darron was, “but...”

“Don’t you worry about that woman.” Mr. Spy said, as if reading her mind again, “I have a plan.”

“A plan?” 

“Yes, do you trust me, Emily?” He asked.

She thought about it for a moment, Mr. Spy seemed to know lots of things and had helped them when Miss Darron lied to the police about Mr. Jeremy taking her away from the car. And he mentioned coming to town to visit Mr. Jeremy’s mom (although she didn’t understand why he was so mad about it), so he was probably a good friend of Mr. Jeremy and she liked and trusted Mr. Jeremy.

“Yes, I trust you, Mr. Spy.” she told him.

“Good girl.” He said, then gently ruffled her hair, “sleep well, little one.” 

and with that, the flashlight went out and a cloud moved over the moon and after a moment of pitch darkness, the moon was bright again and Mr. Spy was gone.

Emily sat in her bed, glancing back and forth, confused as to how he had disappeared.

“Mr. Spy?” she called and jumped when the door to her room opened.

“Emily?” The Orphanage director called, “What are you doing up?”

“I was talking to Mr. Spy,” she said, “But he disappeared.” 

The Director chuckled warmly as she entered the room and helped tuck her back in, “It sounds like you really liked those two men if you were talking to them in your dreams.”

Emily opened her mouth to tell the director it wasn’t a dream, only to see Mr. Spy sneak out of the open door behind her. 

“Yeah.” She said as she caught Mr. Spy’s eye before he slipped away, “I liked them.”

....

Jeremy ran to the hotel his brother managed with several loaves of fresh bread from another brother’s bakery for his fellow Mercs and, in Heavy’s case, their family. 

He decided to start with Sniper, as he was living in his camper, which was in the parking lot. He was about to knock on the door when he heard a familiar mumbling and then heard Sniper say, “For Christ’s sake mate, you’ve been walkin’ inta walls since we got ‘ere, ya need a haircut!”

He heard more loud Mumbles and by the tone, Jeremy could easily picture Pyro throwing their hands in the air and waving them around.

He paused, was it sad he knew what that weirdo in the suit they never took of was doing based on the tone of their mumbles?

Probably.

He decided to knock on the door and deliver their bread before it cooled down.

“Hey, Sniper, got yer bread!” he called as he knocked on the door.

Within seconds he opened it and motioned to the person wearing their signature fireproof suit, “Scout, help a bloke out ‘ere ‘n talk some sense inta Pyro.”

Scout jerked his head back at the suggestion. 

Talk some SENSE into PYRO. 

“Do I look like a miracle worker ta you?” He asked flatly as he handed him his portion of bread.

Sniper scowled at him and made no motion to take the bread from him and Jeremy huffed, “Just get Spy ta do it, like usual.”

Pyro held up their hands and let out a frustrated sounding stream of mumbles and cries.

“Says Spy’s gone, checked his room, ‘n I even called yer Mum for ‘um.”

“HEY!” he cried.

“But he wasn’t there.” Sniper continued.

“Okay, well, I have a sister-in-law who works at a salon, we could ask her ta do it.” He offered.

Pyro waved their arms in front of them, panicked before grasping their mask.

“Doesn’t want to show their face to strangers.” Sniper translated.

“Look,” he said to Pyro, “My sistah is tight lipped fer a hair dresser, okay? And she’s got these curtains fer people who want to show off ta friends ‘n stuff like that. I can ask her ta get the curtain ‘n she’ll do yer hair with no one else seein’. How is that?” 

Pyro fiddled with their fingers and mumbled softly. Sniper gently patted their shoulder, “Look, why don’ ya just give it a go? Scout ‘n I’ll be with ya ‘n if ya feel like scamperin’, we’ll take ya back ta yer room ‘n make sure that when Spy gets back, he cuts yer hair like usual.”

Pyro looked at Sniper for a moment before looking at Scout, and Scout saw, for the first time, a pair of brown eyes looking at him instead of seeing his own terror stricken/annoyed expression reflected in the lenses. And those eyes were scared. 

“If ya don’t like it, I’ll get supplies fer s’mores ‘n we can make ‘um in the parkin’ lot. I’ll get my brotha ta okay it too.” Scout promised, “I’ll even get th’ gross rainbow marshmallows ya like so much.” 

Pyro seemed to think about it for a moment before holding out their hand and raising their pinky.

“You are so weird.” Jeremy sighed, but hooked his pinky with Pyro’s anyway, “Pinky swear.” 

The two let go and suddenly Pyro was their normal, mumbly self as they clapped as he passed them their bread.

“Yeah, the rainbow marshmallows are colorful.” Sniper agreed, then looked to Scout, “We’ll meet ya here after yer done with th’ bread deliveries.”

“Sure pally.” He said, giving the two a wave before making his rounds, curious as to when those two got so close.

....

Spy walked back towards his lover’s home with a yawn, after his Chat with Emily, he did some more digging into the circumstances the child faced before being orphaned. It turned out she lost her parents and leg after a drunk crashed into their car. Emily had no other family other than a grandmother who lived across the country in a mental hospital. 

Miss Darron did take her to doctors appointments and family visits, but according to the nurses he interviewed, the woman seemed to ignore their suggestions on letting Emily use a crutch to allow her to roam around without the wheelchair from time to time and seemed unable to understand that she was only missing a leg, not paralyzed from the waist down. Her other leg still worked and, due to Miss Darron not relaying the correct information to the orphanage director, might be at risk of not working as well due to not exercising it enough.

And it would not help that the orphanage was having it’s funds cut soon and without proper nutrition, not just Emily, but all the children there’s health would probably decrease which would make it more difficult for any of them to get adopted...

That poor little girl could be at risk of never standing again, even if given a new leg, due to that woman’s failure to do her job and because some politicians would rather give money to their girlfriends rather than help make sure orphans ate healthy.

If he was going to get Scout to adopt Emily, he was going to have to work fast...

He paused as he suddenly heard a shout from a salon he passed, “OMIGAWD, YOUR HAIR IS GORGEOUS!!”

“DIANE, YA SAID YA’D KEEP YER MOUTH SHUT!” Scout’s voice called.

He turned and looked into the shop and saw Scout and Sniper in the shop, a styrofoam cup in Sniper’s hand, a can of that soda Scout loved so much in his hand.

“JULIE, GET IN HERE!” the woman’s voice shouted from a curtained off area.

“JULIE, SIT BACK DOWN ‘N LEAVE PYRO ALONE!” Scout shouted pointing at a red head who had been doing another woman’s nails a few feet away.

The red head popped her gum, and gave Scout a stink eye before going towards a curtained off area and slipping inside, “OMIGAWD, is this ya natural colah? It’s beautiful!” she shouted.

“HOW ARE YOU NOT A HAIR MODEL?” the voice from before ‘Diane’ shouted.

“I thought you said she was quiet.” Sniper snapped at Scout.

“I SAID SHE WAS TIGHT LIPPED, I NEVER SAID SHE WAS QUIET!” Scout shouted, “SHE’S A HAIR DRESSER IN BOSTON! THEY’RE NEVAH QUIET!”

“He’s right, you know.” Spy said, the two younger members of their group jumping at the sound of his voice.

“So, which one of you wants to explain why you two idiots brought Pyro to a public place to get their hair cut?” he asked dryily.

“SUSANNE, GET YER ASS OVAH HERE, TAKE A LOOK AT THIS!” ‘Julie’ shouted.

Another woman ran in, “OMIGOSH, WHEN DID JEREMY MEET A MODEL?!”

Another woman poked her head in, “NOT WITH THAT OUTFIT!” She then turned to them, “JEREMY, GET ALISON OVAH HERE, THIS IS A FASHION EMERGENCY!” 

“CAN YOU BROADS JUST CUT PYRO’S HAIR ‘N BE DONE WITH IT?!” Jeremy shouted.

“GET ALISON!” the women shouted back in unison.

“FOINE, BUT IF PYRO FLIPS OUT, IT’S ON ALL OF YOU!” he shouted back. He then got up and walked across the street, grumbling under his breath as he entered a shop with a sign that said ‘Pretty Woman’ on it.

Sniper glared at Spy, “Pyro asked me ta remind you how much you owe them for distractin’ ‘im. You know how they feel about takin’ off their mask in general, let alone ta strangers.” 

Spy nodded in understanding and sat down in Scout’s empty chair, “I spoke with the girl, Emily, and did more research.”

“‘N?” Sniper said.

“We need to step up the time table. That useless child services agent never gave the orphanage director the correct information from the doctors from the start and the orphanage is going to be losing funds and that means the kids might have less healthy foods to eat to help make up for costs. I fear for her health.”

“that’s not good.” Sniper sighed, “Ya need me ta call th’ others?”

“Non, we will talk later. Scout plans to take his mother out for a nice dinner and it will give us time to discuss our options.” 

Sniper nodded, “Still, think we should call th’ Doc at least, ‘e moight have a better idea of how much toime we got ‘ere than you, no offense.”

Spy considered his point, then nodded and politely asked one of the women where he could find a payphone. The woman batted her eyelashes and told him where he could go and he thanked her before walking out the door again. As he slipped through the door, he passing Scout and a woman with blonde hair and an attractive suit as he walked her into the shop and motioned to the curtain with an annoyed expression before plopping back into his seat.

The woman went behind the curtain and said, “OMIGAWD, WHAT ARE YOU WEARIN’?!”

Spy decided to quicken his pace, catching Sniper being dragged out by the blonde back to the shop, chattering non-stop about how she was going to give Scout hell for letting Pyro walk around ‘in that outfit? why doesn’t he just let ‘um wear a trash bag while he’s at it?!’

He briefly wondered why Sniper was being pulled out of the shop, but decided to focus on making his call.

“hello?” Heavy’s voice answered.

“It’s me.” Spy said, “I need to speak to the Medic, I have some new information on the girl.”

He moved the phone away from his ear and still winced a bit when he heard the Russian bellow, ‘DOCTOR! PHONE!’ 

‘Who is it?’ he heard the Medic ask.

‘Spy, has information about the little girl.’ Heavy replied. He then heard the phone exchange hands and heard the chipper German ask, “What do you have for me?”

Spy gave him the information he’d gained and once he finished, he heard the man on the other end hum thoughtfully.

“I concur, we may need to step up the time table, but that might be a bit tricky. Herr Heavy did some research about the adoption procedure here, apparently Scout would need to go through screenings, tests and parenting classes before he could adopt her.” Medic said.

Spy hissed french curses under his breath. The grouchy cop from yesterday had implied that Scout had a reputation with the local cops in the area for being trouble, not to mention the time he’d been arrested while working for the Mann brothers and all the other trouble he probably had gotten into between Boston and the Mann bros. So that did not bode well. 

The tests and classes might be difficult as well, as Scout had a short attention span at the best of times and had trouble reading, recalling him saying that ‘I can’t help it! If there are too many words, they just kinda get all jumbled on the page! Numbahs too! I had a real hard time in school ‘cause of it.’

And then he’d have to show that he could support Emily financially. That one was somewhat possible, as they were paid well for what they did (considering how many times they’d killed each other/died over a petty squabble between millionaires, it was the least they could do), but considering how poorly Scout had invested his funds before and how unlikely he’d be able to hold a normal civilian job if the company decided to cut the mercs loose since their leaders’ dumb war was over now, that could lead to some issues as well down the line.

“We have our work cut out for us.” He sighed.

“Yes,” Medic agreed, “I will talk to Engie about making a new leg, if you can get this Emily’s measurements on that end, it will go great lengths to help us get it done sooner. So it may help her at least be able to walk again.”

“I can do that.” Spy said, the two discussed when they would meet up with the whole gang and regroup before hanging up, watching Sniper being dragged back into the salon with several shopping bags by the blonde again. The Assassin shooting Spy a look that all but shouted, ‘you owe us BIG TIME’.

And the French man would admit, he did not see this going this far.

He followed the two in and the women quickly snatched the bags away from the Aussie and ran to the curtain. And Spy watched Scout walk up to him with his can of Boink and holding a new steaming cup to Sniper, “Sorry,” He said, “Thought Alison and Julie were off today.”

Sniper took the cup, “Let me guess,” He said, “More sisters-in-law?” He then began taking a long drink of the coffee. Scout nodded and slurped up a mouthful of Boink.

“OMIGAWD, YER NOT WEARIN’ A BRA?!” One of the women behind the curtain cried.

Scout and Sniper both did spit takes, spraying cheap coffee and super sweet soda onto the cheap tiled floors before they broke out into a fit of coughing.

"Pyro’s a chick?!” Scout finally blurted, shocked as Sniper began beating his chest with his fist as he coughed a bit more.

“I assume you two didn’t know?” Spy asked, clearly amused.

“Course not!” Sniper snapped, “They never mentioned it ‘n it seemed rude ta ask!”

Spy paused, considering his point. It would be rather rude to just walk up to someone and ask if they were a man or a woman. 

It would also be very stupid to ask that person while they were holding a flamethrower or an axe or had a tendency to carry gasoline and matches wherever they went...

“Fair point.” He conceded as they watched a woman hand Scout a mop and a bucket and he scowled and began mopping up the mess while Sniper glared at him before he walked to the front desk and apologized to the woman behind the counter for the spectacle they’d made of themselves.

Scout finished cleaning up and he and Sniper sat back down with their preferred drinks while Spy lit up a cigarette and stood with his back against the wall by the slightly open door to let the smoke out along with all the other chemical smells that hung heavily in the air in this building.

“You boys ready?” Diane asked when she finally poked her head from the curtain, her eyes sparkling with glee and a broad smile on her bright red lips.

“Of course.” Spy answered for them. Diane quickly slipping back behind the curtain before he motioned for the other two to stand up.

the curtain was flung open and Scout’s three sisters in law held out their hands like they were on a game show and were showing off the winning prize, “TA DA!” they shouted in unison.

Spy nearly let his jaw drop in shock, but managed to keep his mouth shut, although his cigarette did move a bit so he felt a slight heat of the butt of it against his cheek.

Sniper and Scout’s jaws went slack and fell, their eyes wide in shock at the figure before them.

A very tall woman with tan skin and chocolate brown hair styled in a pixie cut stood in a blue summer dress and matching sandals. She held up the mask Pyro always wore in front of her face, her hands and legs shaking.

“Hooley Dooley.” Sniper uttered, his voice barely audible from his spot of less than a foot away, his face red. Spy made note of it before looking at the trembling woman before him.

“You look very nice Pyro.” he said in a soothing tone.

Scout pulled his jaw back up and made a thoughtful expression as he walked closer, his eyes narrowing as he then made a small circle around her before moving Pyro’s hands down to get a good look at her face, which was tanned as well and saw her scared brown eyes.

He then turned to his sisters, “Hey Julie, ya mind doing Pyro’s nails while we’re here?” 

The women beamed as the red head said, “Of course! Let me just finish up with Linda here ‘n I’ll get started!”

“But don’t do any of those long, fake things,” He said as his sisters gently guided Pyro to the table and sat her down next to the woman Julie had been working with before, “Trust me, Pyro don’ need those, they’re dangerous enough with what they do have.” 

“C-can you make them look like little flames?” Pyro asked in a soft, low voice.

“Oh, I’ve nevah done that before!” Julie said excitedly before looking at Scout, “Jeremy, ya mind gettin’ the colors for ‘er?”

“They in the usual place?” He asked.

“Yup, she can pick her colors while I finish up with Linda here.” Julie told him. He hopped across the shop, the woman next to her looking her up and down, “I love your dress.” ‘Linda’ said to her, “color makes yer eyes pop.”  
“T-thank you.” Pyro stammered, “A-Alison picked it out for me, s-she said it’s part of a new collection that just came in.”

“Oh, there’s a new collection in already?” she then turned to the blonde, “Alison, why didn’t ya tell me there was new stock in?”

“You would’ve seen it tamarrah.” Alison said, “I already set one aside for ya in yer size.”

“Thank you!” Linda said as Alison left the shop, snickering as she passed the two male mercs by the door.

Spy leaned towards Sniper, “If you continue to stare like that, I have a feeling the women here will give you a hard time.” He chuckled.

The Bushman quickly clamped his mouth shut, his cheeks still red as he glared at him before asking Julie if he could sit next to her and began chatting with Pyro a bit about their nails, “Would’ve thought you’d go fer somethin’ glitterly.” He joked.

Pyro suddenly looked torn as she looked at her hands, which were still clinging to her mask.

“We can do two things.” Julie assured her as Scout came over with four little racks of nail polish, “Jeremy, get the glittah.”

“Is it in the back?” He asked as he put them down, “Cause we both know I’m a dead man if I go back there.”

“Oh right,” She said, then turned her head, “Carrie, I need some glittah out here! Bring th’ works!” A younger woman quickly dashed into the back room calling out ‘On it!’

Scout then went to the counter and began pulling bills out of his wallet and talking to the woman behind the counter.

“Scout, I-” Pyro started.

“Ain’ leavin’ that chair.” he finished for her, “Aftah all the times you saved my ass, I think I at least owe ya a haircut ‘n a manicure.” 

Diane walked behind him and ruffled his hair as the woman behind the counter began ringing him up, “Let me guess, yer not gonna let me do the family discount?” she asked him, quiet enough so the two at the manicure table couldn’t hear.

“Nope, and ya mind keepin’ it down next time? Pyro ain’t used ta so many people lookin’ at ‘um without the mask.” 

“I guessed as much.” Diane said, “Ya did good bringin’ ‘er here, Jeremy. I think she needed it.” 

His face flushed and he shrugged as he handed the woman behind the counter the money for the haircut and the manicure and made sure that his sisters received hefty tips before making both women promise to not take any money from Pyro.

“Ya mind watchin’ um?” Scout asked Spy, “I’m gonna go across th’ street and make sure Alison’s manager know she did a good job, maybe she’ll finally give ‘er that raise she’s deserved fer the past year.”

“Not a problem.” Spy assured him as he dashed across the street, only for a car to skid to a stop nearly a breath away from him, a small child’s scream being heard from the back.

“What th-” but before he could go into a rant, demanding to know what the driver’s problem was, his eyes seemed to lock onto something, “Emily?” he called.


	3. Chapter 3

Pyro watched Scout stand in front of the car for a moment before running around the side and banging on the door, “Emily! Emily, can ya hear me?” 

Pyro and Sniper exchanged looks before running closer to the window, Sniper pulling a scope from his pocket to get a better look as Spy’s jaw dropped and his lit cigarette fell to the floor as he dashed outside with Diane as the driver began yelling at Scout to ‘get away from my car!’ 

The Aussie let out a quiet curse, “Kid’s in a bad way, looks like a flashback.” he told her.

Pyro felt her throat tighten and her eyes burn, but steeled herself. As much as she wanted to cry for the little girl in the car, as no child should ever go through something that would give them PTSD, but knew tears would do nothing to help right now.

“You get something to wrap her with, I’ll help Scout get her out.” She managed.

“On it.” Sniper said with a nod before asking Julie if there were any blankets or towels they could borrow while Pyro looked around until she saw what she was looking for.

Hello Mr. Lollipop, old friend. Pyro needs your help once again. 

She punched the glass and grabbed the lollipop and took a moment to admire it. It was such a pretty lollipop, smaller than what she was used to, but unlike her rainbow colored one back at the hotel, this one was made up of the colors one saw when they watched flames eat through the wood at a campfire; red, orange, yellow, brown, black and white. 

Pyro heard a voice calling out, “OMIGAWD, YER HAND!” and snapped out of her daze and remembered what she was supposed to be doing, not bothering to look at her throbbing hand before running outside, past Spy and Diane, who were arguing with the driver. Although what they were saying, she didn’t really know, she was too focused on getting to Scout, who was tugging on the door handle and telling Emily that everything was going to be okay, that he’d get her out and to just hang in there.

She felt her stomach twisted and she felt a cold sense of dread sink chill her blood as she leaned down from behind Scout as he continued to tug and yank on the handle and peered into the window and spotted the little girl, who was tangled in the seatbelt, crying and wheezing and hugging herself, her eyes dull and her body quaking.

For a moment, she remembered finding Scout in a similar position not too long after he joined, murmuring how his intestines were leaking and he needed to get them back in, occasionally squawking for Medic. She remembered feeling guilty, as she had decided to look after him as he seemed to be the least experienced merc and was the youngest of the group, which made him the baby of the team and she loved babies. 

She did her best to comfort him and when he finally came out, she took him to the kitchen and made him some hot cocoa and loaned him a stuffed animal for the night. He’d told her the cocoa was enough, but she made it clear he would borrow the stuffed animal for the night or else. He finally took it ‘but only cause yer crazy.’ She’d checked on him the next morning and found him curled up around the unicorn plushie, looking much better than he had. 

It became a thing between them whenever she found him like that. And when she remembered the scary times, he’d bring her to the common room and pull out his comic books and began telling her stories of the superheroes on the colorful pages, sometimes even acting parts out and always made sure to tell her stories with lots of fire in them to cheer her up. 

Scout was her little buddy (even though she was second shortest of the bunch, just barely beating Engie, but she was still tall for a woman) and she always looked out for her little buddies. And that little girl was someone her little buddy cared about, so once she was out, she was going to make sure she got a cup of cocoa and a unicorn to make all the bad things go away. Or maybe a dragon, she'd need to get to know the little girl a bit more before she could decide which one would be better... 

But first she had to help him get her out.

“Scout, Move.” She ordered. He looked to her for a moment, saw her holding the lollipop and leapt backwards out of her way as she swung the lollipop, aiming at the hinges of the door. 

THUD! She felt the metal hinge give way under her lollipop. Yes! One down, one more to go. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” a woman’s voice shouted.

“Getting her out.” Pyro said simply as she lifted the lollipop again and hit the spot where the second hinge was and felt her sugary friend cut through it. Yes!

“It should open now.” she told Scout. Scout immediately flung the door off and off onto the sidewalk behind them before leaping into the car, calling out for the little girl and beginning to fidget with her seatbelt, trying to free her from the tangles. 

“Scout, you need this?” She asked, holding up the lollipop. “Uh, ya got any scissors or a knife?” He asked, “It’s a, bit big.” He said. She paused, considering this. It was a smaller lollipop than she was used to, but now that she thought about it, it was a bit big for the task of carefully cutting a child out from the backseat... 

Spy appeared behind him and pulled out his foldable butterfly, “’Ere, use this.”

Scout took it from him without skipping a beat and, without even looking, managed to open it without smacking the back of his hand or cutting himself, something that he’d never managed to do before, and began carefully cutting the child free of the seatbelt. Muttering to himself that he was glad she was wearing it or she might’ve been in worse shape.

Sniper ran out of the shop, his face a bit red, “Got some towels,” He said, holding them up for the others to see, “Koinda smell loike chemicals, but tha’ might help snap ‘er out of it.”

Scout handed Spy the butterfly back before Sniper handed him the towels and the youngest of the group dove back into the car to carefully wrap the traumatized little girl in the offering.

“YOU!” A voice shouted, catching Pyro’s attention and had her look to see that the driver finally came out of the car, revealing herself to be a woman with a pinched face and a suit in a shade she’d heard one person once call ‘baby poop green’. She didn’t move too far from the door, but pointed at them with a red face, “GET AWAY FROM EMILY OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE!!”

“Fer what?” Diane challenged, “Cause from what I’ve seen, ya nearly hit my brother with yer car ‘n then didn’ realize yer kid was having some sort of panic attack in the backseat!”

“Emily is not her child.” Spy said, his tone dark, “She is an orphan who this woman is supposed to be helping.”

“You all are strangers and you should stay away from her!” The woman insisted, then pointed right at Pyro, “And YOU! Using an axe on my car to open the door! What were you thinking?!”

Axe? Pyro looked down at the lollipop in her hand before looking back to the woman. Was there something wrong with her eyes? This was clearly a giant, colorful lollipop, not an axe. 

Then again, she hadn’t noticed that Emily was having a PTSD episode in her backseat, so she might actually have something wrong with her eyes.

“Well?!” The woman shouted, “What. Were. You. THINKING?!”

Pyro waited a beat before finally asking, “... Do you have problems with your eyes?” 

Diane snorted and Sniper and Spy just seemed to exchange somewhat amused looks as Scout finally crawled out of the car, Emily carefully bundled up in the towels and cradled in his arms.

“Give her to me!” the woman shouted as she stomped towards them, holding out her arms as if expecting Scout to deposit the child she had scared half to death in her arms without any issue.

Pyro took a step in front of Scout and his charge, lollipop raised. Sniper and Spy seemed to take more defensive positions around Scout and Emily.

Which made sense. They were technically labelled as support class, they found ways to take out trouble from a distance or from behind enemy lines, not that they couldn’t fight up close, but they were used to handling opposing forces either from a distance or while in disguise. When they didn’t have those benefits, they usually took more defensive stances and positions when confronted by an enemy.

But Pyro? Pyro was an offensive class. She faced trouble head on with lollipops and flamethrowers. That was just how she did things.

Once the driver saw that Scout would not comply and that none of the others were on her side, she pointed at them, “YOU ARE ALL GOING TO PRISON FOR THIS!” She then jabbed her finger towards Pyro, “And YOU! The fires of Hell aren’t good enough for someone like you!”

Pyro felt her eye twitch involuntarily as what felt like a wildfire was suddenly lit in her belly.

Fire.

NOT.

GOOD?!!

The world suddenly started to lose it’s brightness, colors becoming darker and the lollipop now did seem to resemble an axe as she clenched her jaw and rose the axe high above her head.

This woman was DEAD.

...

Spy, Scout and Sniper immediately stiffened when the woman mentioned fire before looking at each other, knowing that her words would send Pyro into a homicidal rage. Scout quickly ran around them, Emily still cradled to his chest and quickly pulled Diane back inside the salon as Pyro lifted the axe high above her head, thin trails of blood from when she broke the glass to get it up and down her arm from her using the axe, not that she seemed to notice she was bleeding.

Spy dashed to Miss Darron and yanked her backwards by her shoulder, getting a yelp out of her before the axe slammed into the ground, cracking the pavement before she raised it again.

Sniper grabbed Pyro from behind, one arm wrapped around her waist and lifting her off the ground and the other holding the axe above where her hands were. Pyro struggled against him for a moment, Sniper seriously straining himself to keep a hold on her... and from what Spy noticed from the man’s face, he was trying to keep himself together too.

That damned Bushman. He should’ve honestly figured something like this would happen, even if the man was technically from New Zealand, he was raised in Australia. The country where they determine their country’s leader via a boxing match with a Kangaroo. Where people fight for shits and giggles and brute strength and slight insanity are seen as attractive. 

He allowed himself a millisecond to wonder how he didn’t fall for Soldier since that man had some strength, a love of fighting and was quite crazy himself. But then again, Australians were also smart and Soldier was not. Neither were Sniper’s biological parents, who didn’t show any care for their son, so that was another thing going against the idiotic patriot. 

Pyro was quite clever and did care about Sniper. She cared about all of them, even if she showed it in ways that left them with broken bones or burns. And sometimes cut them up or open just for annoying her, but hey, if the Bushman wanted to be with her, well he’d probably died to her more than once, he knew what he was getting into.

Pyro let go of the axe for a moment, the axe sliding a bit in Sniper’s hands before she snatched it from above his hand, flung it upwards until it was no longer in his hand, grabbed it as it fell back down to Earth and then flung it towards Miss Darron with one hand and a loud yell.

Okay, maybe not, because he’d never seen her do that before, he doubted Sniper would’ve seen that coming either.

Spy shoved the woman back into her car through the door she left open and then leapt on top of the hood of the car as the axe hit the car door with a thud missing him by breaths as he felt the axe whizz by the bottom of his shoes. Miss Darron screamed.

Spy caught Sniper’s face turning red as Pyro struggled harder against him, his hands wrapping around her waist and his mouth lowering towards her neck and moving a bit as Pyro’s legs flailed and her arms wrapped around his neck, probably ready to snap it so she could get to her prey unhindered. Although he couldn’t hear if Sniper actually said something as Miss Darron’s scream clawed at his eardrums.

Then he heard the Bushman say in a loud, clear voice, “Pyro, if ya stop tryin’ ta kill ‘er, I’ll take ya ta th’ pettin’ zoo after I tend ta yer hand ‘n ya get yer nails done.”

Pyro stopped struggling for a moment, her eyes losing the darkness of her murderous rage as she seemed to consider spending an afternoon around filthy animals and the scent of hay, shit and piss with a thoughtful expression.

If Spy was in her position, he would’ve snapped his neck for even suggesting spending any time in such an awful place.

But instead, to his surprise, she used her arms to make Sniper look her right in the eyes, “Petting Zoo and we still have S’mores later.” She countered.

“Sure thing, luv.” He told her, “But I wanna make sure yer hand is apples first.”

“Okay!” she said cheerfully, as she released Sniper’s neck so she could clap her hands with glee at the idea of petting unwashed farm animals and coming home smelling like a public toilet, 

‘Then again if she can handle that, then maybe they are a perfect match,’ he mused, a smile curling up his lips. 

With that, Sniper carefully set her down and she happily skipped to the car and yanked the axe free and the two then joined Scout and everyone else inside the shop where he saw her return the axe to Julie with an apology for taking it without asking.

Spy let out a sigh of relief, grateful that they managed to get everyone out of this unscathed.

“I-I’m...” He heard from the car.

“Surprised you didn’t think about how a child who lost her parents and her leg in a car crash would react to you suddenly stopping the car like that.” Spy said plainly as he carefully climbed off the hood. Miss Darron froze.

“H-how...” she stuttered.

“Your bosses won’t like that you have been giving the Orphanage director the wrong information regarding Emily’s health.”

“S-she’s in a wheelchair!” she cried, “She can’t walk, what exactly did I tell her that was wrong.”

“She lost a leg, there was no damage to her spine. With a good prosthetic, she can be up and running around like any other child with only a little practice.” He said sternly, “The doctors told you to let her use a crutch to get around a long time ago and yet you threw the crutch away and told the director she would never walk again.”

“She’s in a wheelchair!” Miss Darron insisted, “She will never walk again! Prosthetics are expensive and it’s hard to find anyone to want to adopt her with her current medical issues, what is the point of her using a crutch when she’ll never have a new leg?”

Spy suddenly wished that Sniper did not succeed in stopping Pyro now, he lit a new cigarette and looked the idiot right in the eye, “You are free to call the police, I will not stop you.” He said.

He then stood, “But I plan to use the phone first, so you will have to wait until I am done.” he then walked back to the phone booth, slipping a hand in his pocket to count the change he had on him.

When he was done with his calls, this woman would be finished as a Child Services agent.

...

Jeremy sat by Emily’s side as she clutched a styrofoam cup full of cocoa, the warmth from the drink seeming to help her regain some of her color. The little girl’s eyes not leaving the brown fluid in the cup.

He lifted his head to look at Pyro and Sniper, who were sitting at an empty manicure station as Sniper carefully tended to her bleeding hand, a damp towel with blood stains sitting on top of a dry one.

Julie reached to take it, but Sniper stopped her with a look, “Don’t, I’ll clean it and bring it back. Blood stains are a pain ta get out.”

Julie arched an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips, “and how do you know that?”

“We’ve all had our turns patching Scout up.” Sniper said simply.

Jeremy nearly snapped at him for that, but he heard a small sniffle coming from the little girl beside him and decided to let it slide as he did damage control.

“Emily, you okay?” He asked, his voice soft, “anything hurt?” 

She wiped at her face, “I... I saw it happening again.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He offered. She shook her head, more tears starting to spill from her cheeks. 

“Hey, it didn’t happen again.” He told her, “You’re safe. Nuthin’s gonna hurt ya with us around.” 

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and he smiled at her.

“Seriously, ya should’ve seen Pyro,” he motioned to her, “That broad drivin’ wouldn’t open the door, so she used an axe ta help me get ta ya.”

Emily’s eyes widened and she looked to the pair he’d waved towards.

“Sniper, that’s the guy, he was raised in Australia, but he was born in New Zealand.” He told her.

Her eyes widened, “New Zealand?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s a place undah th’ sea, big dome, it’s probably flooded now, since the second rocket put that big hole in it and made the flooding worse.” He told her, “Not a nice place.”

“Is Australia a nice place?” She asked softly.

“Depends on where ya go.” He said, “I’ve only been ta the hot, empty places, but I betcha Snipes could tell ya about it if ya asked.”

She looked at Sniper, then down at her cocoa, “Can you go with me?” she asked quietly.

“Sure, I’ve been wantin’ ta hear about the fancy futuristic cities they got there.” he said, then said, “You want me ta carry ya or do you want me ta help ya keep ya steady so you can walk?”

She seemed to mull it over for a moment before she finally replied, “I want to walk on my own, but I can’t without a crutch...” She was quiet for another moment before turning to him and holding up her arms in a silent request to be picked up.

Jeremy carefully scooped her up and carried her to the seat next to Sniper, trying to remember if there was an old crutch somewhere at his Ma’s place that she could use. He and his brothers’d had their share of getting hurt doing stupid things, there had ta be something...

He made a mental note to ask his Ma about it at dinner tonight as he carefully placed her in the chair next to Sniper, “Hey Snipes, Emily here wants ta know about Australia.”

“Really?” He asked with a soft smile as he looked at the little girl, “Well, I’ve only gone ta th’ big cities a few toimes fer school, but I’d be happy ta tell ya ‘bout ‘um.”

Emily stared at him for a moment before declaring that, “I like your accent, it’s pretty.”

Jeremy and Pyro snickered and Sniper looked baffled but quickly shook it off and gave her a polite thank you and began telling her all about the fancy, futuristic cities of Australia.

Julie swapping places with him and him sitting next to Pyro and across from Emily as she began doing Pyro’s nails. The little girl finally drinking her cocoa, to Jeremy’s relief. He excused himself to pick up his discarded Boink can, it wouldn’t be bubbly anymore, but hey, there was still half a can, might as well finish it.

As he picked it up, Spy finally arrived inside, lighting up a fresh cigarette.

“Was wondering where you went.” He chuckled.

“I had a few phone calls to make.” he replied, looking towards their fellow Mercs, Julie and Emily, “it’s nice to see that she’s feeling better.”

“Yeah...” He said with a smile on his face before looking to Spy, “Hey Spy, you know when Engie’s heading back home?” 

Spy released a small puff of smoke, “He said he’d leave tomorrow, but that he’d be back next week with supplies to help make Zhanna a new hand.”

“Oh yeah, said it was his wedding present to her, right?” Jeremy said, “so she can have her wedding ring on her left hand.”

“Yes, although I have a feeling he will make them something else too,” Spy said, peering at him from the corner of his eye, “Why do you ask?”

“... You think he could make Emily a new leg?” He asked, then quickly slapped on, “A-aftah Zhanna, I mean, she lost her hand ta save our butts, so she should get a new limb first...” 

“I think it’s possible.” Spy said, a small, somewhat knowing smile on his lips, “Would you like me to-”

“Nah, I’ll do it when he gets back.” He said, “Wanna see if Ma’s got an old crutch lying around from when we were kids first.”

“Oh?” He replied.

“Yeah, she said she wanted to walk with a crutch. Makes sense, I mean, kids grow, right? Even if we got her a leg now, she’d probably outgrow it eventually and just end up in a wheelchair again, right? So it’s probably bettah she start with learnin’ how ta walk with crutches first.” He blabbed.

Spy’s eyebrows rose and his expression was surprised before it shifted into thoughtful, “That is a good point, teaching her how she can be more mobile without a leg should be the first thing...” 

“Scout!” Pyro called from her seat, “When my nails are done, can we get Emily a dragon?”

“Dragon?” He called back. “Not a unicorn?”

“No, she needs a dragon.” Pyro insisted, “Trust me.”

“I thought you and Sniper were going to the petting zoo after your nails.” Spy commented.

“She needs a dragon first!” Pyro said sternly.

The group chuckled as Jeremy walked over to them, thinking that seeing Emily enjoy herself with his friends and family like this was something he’d could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to write Pyro, so hopefully I did okay.


End file.
